


Collared

by Writing-Rammstein (writingfanfic)



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Collars, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 15:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Rammstein
Summary: For the prompt: 'I would LOVE to see some rough/light BDSM stuff between Richard and the reader.'Can do! I tried to go light.





	Collared

“This looks very flattering on you.”

You smile up at Richard, biting your lip, and he reaches down, fingers running along the leather around your neck.

“I couldn’t believe it came in white. That’s extremely aesthetic.” You wink at him, and he runs his hands over your body, plucking at the white lace of your lingerie as he does so. “How are your wrists?”

You tug on the binds - white fluffy handcuffs, he is right, this _is_ aesthetic - and he grins, before lowering his mouth to your stomach, biting your skin. It will start gentle. It always does. You let out a little ‘hhmhh’ of contentment that ends in a yelp when he nips at your hipbone, and he grins up at you.

“Has anyone mentioned that you are gorgeous?” He sticks his tongue out, and you breathe hard, watching him carefully. “And very… easy to mark.” He digs his nails in near your collarbone and scratches down, and you moan playfully, licking your lips. “One day I would like to carve my name into you. But for now, we’ll settle for Sharpie.” He grabs the pen from the side, and scrawls his name on your hip, and then grins. “It fades too fast.”

“My boss saw…” You flush. “He saw what you’d written on my… chest.”

“Do I have to come to your work and fight your boss?” he asks, in amusement, and writes ‘meine’ on your stomach. He scrawls a heart over yours, and then sits back, unzipping his trousers. He’s gone commando today, and you have to admit, it’s a cliché, but seeing the outline of his dick through his jeans has been driving you _insane_. “Wait.” He reaches down into the box of ‘toys’ you have under the bed, and pulls out your bullet vibrator, switching it on and then holding it to you through your panties - you yelp again. “If you don’t come before me…”

He pulls himself out of his jeans and begins to stroke himself - you are transfixed on him, the vibrator almost too intense, and he flexes his hips into his hands, staring at you intently.

“…you don’t get to come, babe.”

His sentence ends in a moan as he tilts his head back, and you pull against your bonds as he angles the vibrator against you. You grind up against him; you want his fingers inside you so badly, but you’ll take this for now. His chest is heaving under his black t-shirt, hipbones just peeking out over his jeans, and you want him in your mouth - you want that badly too.

“Sir,” you pant, and he rolls his hips, clicking through your vibrator’s settings with his other hand until he hits on the pulse setting. That’s cheating, a little, you think, with the very small part of your brain that isn’t swamped by the sudden pleasure that is the vibrator pulsing on and off against you - bursts of pleasure that feel like you’re being electrocuted between your thighs. “Richard…”

“(Y/N),” he growls, smirking at you. “Whore…” He grits his teeth. “I should be using your mouth for this.” His eyes are burning, and you can’t stop staring at them, trying to angle yourself against the vibrator, and he snarls again, watching you intently. “You’re beautiful…”

“Please,” you whimper. You want him inside you, so badly.

“Please what?” he asks, voice low and a little hoarse. “Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Really? How?” he gasps, and you moan, screwing your eyes shut for a moment. “I can’t hear you t-telling me what you want…”

“I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me ‘til I can’t walk,” you moan, toes curling, and you hear him huff with laughter for a moment before he moans again.

“Tough sh-shit.” You hear him moan again, the vibrator being pressed against you - you’re so close it burns - and then you feel him cum over your stomach and chest, leaving hot stripes over your skin. Next second, the vibrator is snatched away, and you open your eyes, panting in disappointment; he’s watching you with hooded eyes, sweat beading his forehead.

“Sir…” you whimper, and he smirks.

“I did warn you.” He kicks off his jeans, and shrugs off his t-shirt, before crawling up to untie your hands. “You’re going to have a shower now. And if you touch yourself before tonight, you are going to regret it.”

“Okay, Sir,” you whine, and he kisses your cheek, before unclasping your bra; you rub your wrists, and he pulls your panties off, unceremoniously wiping you down before throwing them at the washbasket. You toy with the collar, but it’s waterproof, and you like it on… “Better carry me.”

“Of course, babe.” He scoops you up, and grins, carrying you nakedly through the apartment. “Of course.”


End file.
